


A Beautiful War

by Sincestiel



Series: Tumblr Prompts [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barebacking, Butt Plugs, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Sibling Incest, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:29:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincestiel/pseuds/Sincestiel
Summary: It takes a little strategic maneuvering, but less than two minutes later he’s sidling up to the bar, fitting himself into the empty space beside Dean.  And he doesn’t know why his brother is here or even if it’s a good thing.  Hell, for all Sam knows Dean could be here to deliver devastating news.  But he can’t help the way his heart soars at Dean’s proximity.  He also can’t help the twitching of his dick when Dean’s eyes cut sideways and his mouth pulls into a crooked grin.  So nothing bad then.  That’s good at least.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a Kings of Leon song.
> 
> I got a prompt for a Christmas-y fic starring Top!Sam and Needy!Bottom!Dean. The request was for a Standford Era kind of roleplaying type scenario with Dean finding Sam at Standford because he misses him. And I quote, "I'd be ever so happy if Sam's confident and dominating and Dean gives it all over to his Baby Brother."
> 
> I hope that I somewhat managed something enjoyable here for you, dear. 
> 
> Also, this really fucks up the start of the series. And I'd apologize for that if I was at all sorry. As it is, I am not. So enjoy!

_When I hold_  
_The warmth of your body_  
_There is nobody_  
_That I'd rather hold_  
_Shattered and cold_

-Beautiful War by Kings of Leon

Sam laughs as Jess pulls him close, pointing up to the mistletoe hanging above their heads. The dimly lit bar is sprinkled generously with it and oddly placed strings of Christmas lights. It makes for a rather weird ambiance given that the place is overflowing with drunken college students who are either purposely avoiding the dangling bits of green, or dragging one another under them. More than once Sam has seen people pull back out of a kiss with a look of revulsion while they wipe at their mouths. And, up to this point, he’d managed to stay out from under it. But Jess is wily and Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell her no.

She takes pity on him though, and only plants a light kiss on his cheek. And, it’s not that he’s not interested. Because she’s cute and funny and probably fucking perfect for him. But despite being adamant that this is the life he wants, he hasn’t quite been able to settle in here yet. His single dorm room is too small but also entirely too big. Too devoid of a certain somebody. And he guesses it’s homesickness, that’s what Jess calls it anyway, but he’s never really had a stationary home. He’s homesick for someone, though. And maybe she gets that too because she never pushes.

“Hey,” Jess murmurs close to his ear before she pulls back, “don’t look now, but we have an audience. And I’m not really sure which one of us he’s checking out.”

When Jess leans back in her chair beside him, she tilts her head toward the bar minutely as she brings her drink up to her mouth, bright red lips wrapping around the straw. Sam doesn’t look right away, too entranced by the pretty picture in front of him. She’s dazzling in her sparkling black dress with her long, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. And, not for the first time, he mentally kicks himself for taking so damned long to ask her out.

“Oh. It’s definitely you. Shame too, because you could cut glass with those cheekbones.”

“Whose cheekbones?” Brady asks as he plops into the chair on Sam’s other side, sliding another beer in front of Sam.

“Hunk at the bar keeps eye fucking Sam. I think he should go for it,” Jess says with a shrug and Sam gets the feeling she’s serious but also sort of jealous. It kind of dawns on Sam then that maybe Jess thinks he’s gay. It wouldn’t be such a leap considering he’s told her he’s bi. Perhaps she thinks it’s a cover. That he’s not actually ready to come out all the way yet. She probably thinks that’s why he hasn’t asked her out. He should probably correct that assumption.

Right after he gets a good look at this guy she keeps staring at. Because he really wasn’t lying about being bisexual. Though, to be fair, he’s only ever been with one guy. So maybe that was a fluke. A byproduct of a fucked up childhood. Still though. Here he is months later and still pining. Whatever. After the holidays he’ll ask Jess out and move the fuck on. Hopefully. But, for now, he’s going to check out the guy that is holding Jess’ attention so well.

Angling his body, Sam leans his elbow on the table and, oh so casually, turns toward the bar. He has his beer halfway to his mouth when his gaze falls into the greenest eyes he’s ever seen. Fuck. No fucking way. Sam lets his eyes drift down to light on the perfect cupid’s bow of the guy’s lips and his own tongue darts out to moisten his. That jawline is still chiseled perfectly too. And Sam thinks about how it would feel to cup the side of his face as that beautiful mouth swallows him down. Shit.

He makes a decision before he even realizes it. Sliding off his stool, Sam holds his beer close to his chest to keep from spilling it as he winds his way through the throng of bodies separating him from the bar. “Have fun, guys,” he tosses back over his shoulder before the crowd closes around him.

It takes a little strategic maneuvering, but less than two minutes later he’s sidling up to the bar, fitting himself into the empty space beside Dean. And he doesn’t know why his brother is here or even if it’s a good thing. Hell, for all Sam knows Dean could be here to deliver devastating news. But he can’t help the way his heart soars at Dean’s proximity. He also can’t help the twitching of his dick when Dean’s eyes cut sideways and his mouth pulls into a crooked grin. So nothing bad then. That’s good at least.

Sam doesn’t know why he does it. But he doesn’t acknowledge Dean as his brother. The person he’s been missing like crazy for months now. The guy who has, unknowingly, kept Sam’s sex life quite barren despite having a willing, and maybe even eager, potential lover in his small circle of friends. Instead of greeting his brother, Sam approaches Dean like a stranger. A possible hook up.

“Buy you a drink?”

He holds his breath, waiting. This could go either way. Dean could and probably will break the illusion with the first words out of his mouth. Sam would probably deserve it too. It’s not like they parted on great terms and Sam is certainly partly to blame for that.

“Yeah,” Dean replies, head tilting to the side, as if he’s totally onboard with playing along, but he’s not sure exactly what the game is just yet. His tongue flashes out in a ploy Sam recognizes. He’s trying to gauge Sam’s interest and his mood. He’s unsure but cocky, like always. So Sam gives in, deliberately and openly admires the shine of spit now covering Dean’s plush bottom lip. And then he extends a hand, clueing Dean in on just what they’re doing here.

“Sam.”

Dean’s smile grows slowly as he turns his body to face Sam’s. For several long seconds he stares at Sam’s outstretched hand but then graces Sam with a smirk that he recognizes instantly. There’s no doubt Dean’s going to play this out when his fingers wrap around Sam’s palm and he replies with, “Chris.”

Not only does Dean regularly use a pseudonym with hook ups, but this way Sam can introduce Dean to his friends if he so chooses without blowing their cover. Sam doesn’t plan to bother telling Dean that he’s never told his friends his brother’s name anyway. Dean just doesn’t need to know that and it would probably piss him off.

“Nice to meet you, Chris. So, a beer? Or something stronger?” Sam points at the scotch on the rocks that Dean has almost emptied.

“Just a beer, I think,” Dean answers, releasing Sam’s hand, but dropping his arm down so that his fingers play at the hem of Sam’s shirt. It sends an electric jolt through Sam to have the heat of Dean’s body so close to his own after so long. And having that hand just millimeters away from the bare skin of his side as Dean tugs and lifts at the material makes Sam’s stomach flip.

He leans over the bar to catch the bartender’s attention and ask for a Corona and the movement puts him more in Dean’s space. Sam twists just enough to get the tips of Dean’s fingers raking over his hipbone and he’s certain Dean feels the skin prickle when Sam shivers.

After he gets and pays for Dean’s beer, he hands over the bottle and slides even closer, getting Dean’s whole hand flat against his side under his shirt. And then they’re almost chest to chest as more people struggle to get close enough to the bar to place their orders. They’re so close, in fact, that when one of them takes a drink, they have to turn their head sideways to keep from knocking the other in the face.

“What brings you out tonight?” Sam asks, feeling awkward now that he’s made the first move. He’s not sure what the protocol is here. He’s never picked anyone up in a bar. Or anywhere really. Dean though, he’s an expert.

“Looking for someone.” That’s all Dean gives him, preferring instead to sit back and watch Sam flounder around. He’s getting some sick joy out of it, Sam’s sure. Maybe this is his punishment for leaving. But hey, if having to figure out exactly how to go about getting Dean back to his dorm is the worst Dean decides to dish out, Sam will take it. Gladly.

“Did you find them?” He asks, taking a sip of his beer as he nervously glances out over the crowd of people. He finds Jess fairly easily, one of the perks of being the tallest person in almost any room. She’s watching the two of them even as Brady rambles on beside her. And when their eyes meet she tilts her head, inviting Sam to bring Dean over.

“Yeah. I think I did,” is the answer Sam gets and he smiles, turning back to his brother. And Dean’s eyes are everywhere. They roam over Sam’s face and down his neck. They glide over his shoulders and take in his torso. When they land on his crotch he bites at his bottom lip and Sam moans.

Shit. If he doesn’t do something soon they’re going to be wrapped around each other in a dark corner very soon. And while Sam isn’t totally opposed to that, he’d prefer something a little more private. But he doesn’t want to get there too quickly. Dean has a tendency to run afterward. He always has. 

Like before, all the foreplay and all the flirting, is okay. And while they’re tangled up naked in each other, his base desires take over. But as soon as it’s all over, Dean bolts. That’s part of the reason Sam had to leave. His heart could only take the rejection so many times. And when he’d suggested they… well. Suffice to say there were some things Dean wasn’t willing to let Sam give him. Apparently sucking your brother off or jacking him off is in the realm of okay. But penetration of any kind? That’s when it gets weird. Or something. Dean’s never done logic so well when it comes to Sam. But whatever. Dean is here now and Sam intends to keep him here as long as he can. So, with that goal in mind he decides to risk introducing Dean to his friends.

“Hey, want to get out of this mess?” Sam offers and someone jostles into him as if on cue. “Got a table with some friends against the wall.”

Something on Dean’s face shifts. The cool confidence he always exudes is buried, briefly, under insecurity and maybe even a little shock. Like, despite using the fake name, he doesn’t believe Sam would really want to let him meet his friends.

“You sure?” And there’s nothing ‘Chris’ about the question. It’s all Dean. Like not only is he not sure Sam really wants to include him, in any way, in the life he’s building here, but he’s also not really sure he’s worthy of inclusion.

“Yeah.” Sam offers instantly. He can’t afford to hesitate here. The slightest slip up could mean the end of whatever they’re toeing right now. The smile Dean gives him is slightly wary, but mostly just pleased.

Sam leads the way across the room with Dean slotted snugly against his back, that one hand still clinging to Sam’s protruding hipbone under his shirt. Dean doesn’t seem interested in letting go either. But Sam isn’t complaining. In fact, he fully intends to have Dean’s hands all over him before the night is over. And he’ll deal with the pain of waking up alone in the morning. Like he always has. Just like every other person who every gets the honor of falling asleep beside Dean. Sam doesn’t kid himself that he’s any different. Well, except for the fact that getting off with Sam causes Dean infinitely more grief and guilt. And well, Dean _loves_ him. And he knows this, even if Dean won’t say it. Maybe that has more to do with just why Dean runs than the fact that they’re related.

“Hey,” Sam greets as they approach the table. Jess has hardly taken her eyes off of them the whole time, but Brady turns with a grin. And either Jess has let Brady in on what’s going on here, or the possessive hand Dean has on him is obvious enough in and of itself. But, bless him, he just holds out a hand to Dean, welcoming him into their little group.

“This is Brady,” Sam says as they shake hands, “And that’s Jessica.”

Dean smiles as he reaches across the table to take Jess’ hand as well. To Sam’s utter shock, there’s no flirtation in the way Dean says, “Nice to meet you. I’m Chris.”

“It’s just Jess,” Jess replies, and then, “Nice to meet you as well.”

Dean fits surprisingly well into their clique. And the whole time he’s discussing movies and music – Brady is a huge classic rock buff as well – his hands find new and interesting places on Sam’s body to enjoy. His side and his pelvis and his shoulder and his neck… Mostly Sam is quiet, enjoying Dean’s physical attention even if he’s otherwise engaged in his conversation with Brady. Jess is pretty quiet as well as she studies the two of them. It makes Sam nervous honestly. 

Jess thinks on her feet and she’s sharper than anyone else Sam knows. So when she looks at them strangely, head tilted and eyes squinted dangerously, it kicks Sam’s pulse up several notches. And he blushes several different shades of red. He hopes, beyond all hope, that Jess is just letting her overactive imagination run wild thinking about what the two of them might get up to later and not figuring anything out. Though Sam isn’t sure what, exactly, she would be figuring out. He and Dean don’t look alike. Not enough that anyone would pinpoint them as brothers without being told anyway. So, no matter what she’s onto, and it’s definitely _something_ , it isn’t that.

But he doesn’t have to think on it too long. Brady offers to get drinks and Dean volunteers to go with him, standing up and planting a quick kiss to Sam’s jaw before he disappears on his way to the bar. And then he’s alone with Jess. Jess and all the conclusions she’s apparently drawn over the last few minutes.

“You know him,” she accuses, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Well yeah. As well as you anyway.”

“No. Better than me. You knew him before tonight. I thought it was strange how you dropped us the second you saw him. But you’re comfortable with him like I’ve never seen you before. It’s almost like… you anticipate every move he makes. And you lean into him like you trust him completely. The way you smile at him, Sam. And he called you Sammy a few minutes ago and you didn’t even bitch about it like you usually do. Is he the one?”

Sam’s mouth is dry and his heart is pounding and, for once, he’s feeling all the fear that he knows wracks Dean from time to time when it comes to their relationship. It’s unnerving because Sam has always been the more devil may care one when it comes to them. But the thought that Jess might be about to catch them out? It has the hairs on his arm standing on end.

“The one?”

“You know. The person who broke your heart? And don’t even bother denying it. You were shattered when I first met you and it’s only gotten marginally better since then. And now this guy shows up and suddenly you’re all swooning smiles? It’s him, isn’t it?”

She hasn’t said ‘brother’ yet and neither does she seem too disgusted. So that must be the extent of the conclusion she’s drawn. Which is fine. Good even. And pretty much spot on. Except maybe she’s leaving out the fact that Sam did some breaking of his own. They broke each other, truth be told.

“It wasn’t exactly like that, Jess. I’m just as guilty as he is really. But at least he had the balls to come looking for me after I ran, you know? So cut him some slack.”

Jess huffs and then a small smile spreads over her face. “Fine. Besides, you’re smiling more than I’ve ever seen. But you should really switch seats with me.” She points up to the mistletoe still hanging just to the left of her head and Sam rolls his eyes. But he does switch seats with her. He doesn’t expect Dean to actually kiss him here. But it’ll be funny to watch the panic bloom in his eyes for the few seconds before he slides his mask back into place.

Except that’s not what happens at all. When Dean returns to the table he looks confused at the new seating arrangement for all of three seconds before his gaze shifts up and lands on the green sprig almost directly over Sam’s head. But instead of appearing out of sorts, he grins, wolfishly. And for the amount of time it takes Dean to set down the drinks in his hands, Sam feels more like prey than he ever has in his life. And that’s saying a lot considering his upbringing.

Before Sam can rethink the plan that Jess set in motion or even decide if he actually _wants_ to rethink it, Dean is advancing on him. Hands that Sam knows almost as well as his own on pretty much every inch of his body cup the side of his face and then Dean’s mouth is right there. He hovers just a breath away from taking Sam’s lips, leaving it up to Sam to decide. He can pull away and laugh it off or he can kiss his brother. Right here. In front of everyone in this bar.

Sam’s not sure he even makes a decision because he isn’t sure there was ever any other choice. He surges up and presses his lips against Dean’s fuller, softer ones. And it’s like coming home. Like the first breath upon emerging from water. It’s like everything that’s been missing in his life for the last few months is in his grasp.

One arm twines around Dean’s waist, pulling him closer until Dean is almost straddling him on the stool. But then he spreads his thighs and lets Dean fit right between them as his other hand slips under Dean’s shirt, fingertips ghosting over Dean’s stomach. He feels the fluttering warmth of his skin, and he can’t help the moan that escapes him. He loses himself in the twist of Dean’s tongue and the wicked drag of his teeth over Sam’s bottom lip. And long before Sam is ready to let go of his brother, whoops and whistles start to erupt round them and they break apart.

Sam is panting when he glances out to see multiple sets of eyes on them. Jess is watching too, her eyes wide and almost wild in the way they flit between the two of them. There’s a flush high on her cheeks and nibbles at her lips several time before she finally drops her head and takes a long drink from her glass.

“Shit,” Dean murmurs, fitting his face into the crook of Sam’s neck. And then, “First time we’ve ever done that in public,” just low enough that only Sam catches it over the din of the people filling the room.

“You complaining?” Sam asks, all pretense lost as he pulls Dean’s body even closer, the hand under his shirt drifting up to rub the pad of his pointer finger over a peaked nipple. Dean inhales sharply at the touch, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything he presses closer.

“Nope. Your dorm’s close, right? Because I can’t wait much longer, Sammy.”

“Yeah. Just a couple blocks away. Wanna get out of here?”

“God, please,” Dean answers, turning his head to nip once at Sam’s neck before he pulls back and flashes a smooth, toothy grin at Brady and Jess. “It’s been fun guys, really. But, um…”

“We’re gonna head out,” Sam finishes for him, standing and guiding Dean back just enough so that he can slip in beside him and get and arm around his waist from the side. They’ve never really been able to do this before, engage in random PDA without looking over their shoulders, and Sam intends to make the best of it. And when Dean doesn’t pull away, even when they’ve made their way out of the bar and into the cool night air, Sam figures Dean’s enjoying it as well.

It’s so nice, in fact, that Sam hates to spoil the mood with the question they both know he’s dying to ask. But he’s, apparently, a glutton for punishment who has no issue with looking a gift horse in the mouth, because they’ve only made it through the first crosswalk when it comes out.

“So, why are you here? Surely you didn’t come all this way to hone your acting chops?”

He half expects Dean to pull away at the obvious break in character now that they don’t have an audience, so he grips Dean’s waist a little tighter. But Dean surprises him and instead of trying to get away, he snuggles closer, running his cold nose along Sam’s jaw and breathing him in.

“Missed you. And it’s almost Christmas. I wanted to give you a present.” Dean’s arm worms it’s way around the small of Sam’s back then so that they’re holding each other as they wait for the last crosswalk light to change. And Dean steals a quick kiss just before it does and then Sam is smiling all the way up the stairs to his dorm, Dean hot on his heels.

There’s some more thievery as he fights to get his key in the lock, Dean’s mouth working over the back of his neck, teeth scraping teasingly here and there. When Sam finally fumbles the door open, Dean ushers them inside, wasting no time getting it closed. And then Sam finds himself pinned against it in the dark. Dean’s eyes glint in the faint moonlight coming through the curtains as he just stares into Sam’s face for several seconds, barely even breathing.

“Sorry I was such an ass,” Dean finally says, his hand lifting so that his finger traces along Sam’s bottom lip.

“Me too,” Sam whispers, afraid to speak too loudly and break whatever spell Dean is under right now that he’s willingly apologizing.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Sammy. I’ve just been really fucking stupid.”

“I wanted more than you could give and I ran away. I screwed up,” Sam says it with a shrug, tongue dipping out to tap at the finger still lingering over his lips.

“No you didn’t. You had every right to be mad, Sammy. I’ve spent all this time treating you like some random hook up. Or… worse. Because I was ashamed. And… god, I’m so fucking sorry.” Dean’s voice breaks then and his eyes are suspiciously watery.

“Well, I mean, we’re brothers, Dean. It’s understandable you’d be ashamed. I probably should be too.”

“But you’re not,” Dean says, still just as in awe of that fact as always, “Never have been. Wanna know a secret? I was hoping the whole way here that no one would know who I was. That you hadn’t told anyone about me or that… I don’t know. I was hoping for some anonymity I guess. I wanted to… that kiss was planned from the start. I wanted to know what it’d be like to do it out in the open like that.”

“Yeah?” Sam asks, breathlessly, as he realizes that he’s aching for Dean’s body against his. He knew he wanted it before, but it was something just at the periphery of his desire to just _be with_ Dean. Now though, that they’re alone and Dean is already so close? He’s hungry for it. For the feel of Dean’s erection pressing into his own. He needs Dean’s hands digging into his ass cheeks and Dean’s husky, velvet voice urging him on as they race toward their release.

“Yeah. It was good, Sammy. So fucking good.” Dean surges up on his tiptoes then, resting his forehead against Sam’s, rubbing the tips of their noses together, “Wish we could do it all the time.”

Sam whimpers then and feels his own eyes start to tear up, but before he can embarrass himself by actually shedding tears, Dean presses closer and brings their mouths together again, soft and sweet, the barest hint of tongue. And Sam shivers with how good it is. How much better even than the kiss earlier because there’s nothing for show in this. It’s just them coming together after having been apart for entirely too long.

When Dean pulls away with one final lick at Sam’s top lip, he smiles and tugs Sam away from the door and back toward the bed on the far wall. It’s a single and it’s barely big enough for Sam’s lanky frame, but Sam has no doubt they’ll make it work. Hell, the last time they were together it was in the back seat of the Impala and they didn’t have any problems sucking each other off rather spectacularly.

“You got condoms and lube stashed away somewhere?” Dean asks casually, as if those are things they have always used regularly, but Sam stops in his tracks because there is nothing, _nothing_ , familiar about that question. They’ve rarely had need for lube and they’ve never, not even once, needed a condom for anything.

“Dean, I-”

“Shh,” Dean interrupts, thankfully, because Sam has no clue what he intended to say, “Yes or no, Sammy. Because I have some back in the car, but that’s a long walk in the cold and I’d rather not go back right now.”

“Yeah. Top drawer.”

“Good,” Dean praises, turning Sam in the direction of the dresser, “get them.”

In the time it takes Sam to dig the box of condoms and bottle of lube out from under his socks with shaking hands, Dean manages to get undressed. Because when Sam turns back around, there’s a pile of clothes in the floor and a very naked Dean sitting on his bed, one hand wrapped loosely around a very hard cock. Fuck.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

After all this time, after Sam just assuming it was never going to happen, are they actually going to do this? He never even dared hope he’d get more than hurried handjobs or blowjobs. And now? Here he is, alone with Dean for the first time in months. And there’s no time table here of which he is aware. No chance of getting caught. And Dean wants lube and condoms.

Sam’s brain must shut down on him because he’s still standing in the same spot, holding the items in his hands and staring at Dean when Dean finally gets impatient.

“I swear to… Sammy, if you don’t get over here and fuck me right now… Well, I’m _not_ going to change my mind, but I… will you just get over here? I got nothing. Any threat would be empty anyway. I’ve been waiting too long for this, wanting it too much, to back out now.”

“Fuck you? You mean…? Really? I thought… I don’t know. I just…”

“Sammy. Get. Over. Here.”

Something in Dean’s tone kick starts Sam’s brain again because he’s in motion before he even knows it. He’s shedding his clothes and juggling the condoms and lube as he makes his way across the small room. By the time he gets to the bed, he’s been able to lose his jacket and his shirts so that he’s down to his jeans and shoes. And when he sits on the bed to untie the tennis shoes he’s wearing, Dean takes the opportunity to mouth at the back of his neck.

“God, Sammy. You’re even hotter. Fuck. Baby, where’d all this muscle come from?” Dean’s hands run up and down his sides, trace around to his abs and then down, worming under the waistband of his jeans and scratching at the hairs surrounding his hard, leaking prick.

Sam toes off the shoes and then leans back into Dean’s body, feeling the way Dean is trembling as he relearns the new addition of muscle on Sam’s torso. He moans as Dean’s teeth sink into his shoulder and it feels so primal, so raw, that something in him snaps, and he turns his head to nip sharply at Dean’s jaw. And then, against his ear he whispers, “Unfasten them, Dean. I need to feel your hand around me.”

Dean obeys so quickly and with such efficiency that Sam can’t help but grin. Some part of him always knew this is how Dean would be. Needy and greedy for it. Maybe that’s why he could never really consider them actually having sex. Because his mind kept putting him on bottom, but it just didn’t feel right. And this is why. Because Dean, despite the fact that he would probably never, _ever_ admit it outside of a moment like this, is a total, unquestionable, bottom. And he definitely has some sub tendencies as well because the second Sam’s cock springs free, Dean’s hand is around it and he’s pushing his own into Sam’s back muttering, “Please, Sammy. So big. God, baby, come on. Wanna feel you inside me. Fill me up so good, won’t you, baby?”

“Yeah,” Sam answers, shifting so that he can turn and climb onto the bed. He presses Dean back, slides his hands up the insides of Dean’s thighs and pushes them up and open. And he nearly chokes when he realizes there’s a small, black plug in Dean’s ass. “Shit. Dean.”

When Sam looks up, he’s greeted by the sight of the prettiest blush adorning Dean’s cheeks. But Dean holds his gaze even if he’s slightly embarrassed. “I wanted to be ready for you. But I think I might need more prep. I must have forgotten how fucking big you are.”

Sam smirks and Dean rolls his eyes. But when Sam wraps a hand around the cock twitching on Dean’s belly and strokes once, slowly, up and down the length, those eyes roll back in his head again and stay there for several long seconds. His pelvis thrusts up and into the friction as he groans. Yeah. Sam’s got his number. He knows just how to wipe any look right off Dean’s face.

Dean’s hips are just starting to relax and allow him to come to rest on the tops of Sam’s thighs when Sam slides a hand under him and puts just a little pressure on the base of the toy and that earns him a “Holy fucking hell, Sammy. God. _More_.”

“You like that, Dean? Being stuffed full?” Sam tugs at the toy and feels Dean’s rim stretch as it grips at the rubber, and Dean shudders violently, whimpering as his eyes fly open and lock on Sam.

“ _Yes_ ,” he grates out, hips churning as he tries to decide if he wants the toy deeper or if he wants it pulled out and replaced with Sam’s dick, “I fucking _love_ it, Sam. Gonna be even better when it’s you in me. Long and thick. Fuck. I wanna do it without the condom.” Dean whines the last bit, like he knows it isn’t wise but he wants it too much to care.

And fuck. Sam _should_ care. He should say no. Or just ignore it altogether. But as much as Dean always wants to take care of Sam, Sam always wants to give Dean whatever his heart desires.

“Really, Dean? You want me bare? Never had anyone without a condom.”

Dean’s answer seals it for him, “Me either.” And it’s still risky, he knows. But if they’ve both always been careful with everyone else, then they can afford to chance it now. He shoves the box of condoms off the bed at the same time he works the plug out of Dean’s clenching hole.

“Shit,” Dean hisses as he bears down on nothing, and pushes back to find something else to fill him. Sam quickly slicks two fingers and steadies Dean with one hand as he presses in with the digits of his other hand.

“Dean,” Sam says, voice quivering as Dean clamps down on him, the silky insides of Dean’s body welcoming him with rhythmic pulsing, “So good. God, so fucking tight.”

Dean groans and throws his head back, working his body up and down on Sam’s fingers in time with Sam’s thrusts. Every time Sam scissors his fingers, stretching the thin ring of muscle, Dean whines and shakes. And when Sam curves his hand a little, sliding a third finger in just as he twists his wrist, Dean chokes out a startled moan and one hand flies up to grip Sam’s forearm.

“Gotta stop, Sammy. You do that again and this is over before it’s even really started.”

Sam huffs out a laugh and leans over Dean’s body to pepper a few very soft kisses over his collarbones. But he doesn’t dare move his hand. When Dean comes he wants to at least be inside him. He can just imagine how the rippling channel will feel as it spasms around his cock.

“That good?” Sam asks, trailing his mouth down to flick his tongue out over a perky nipple. And when he rakes his teeth over it, Dean offers the sweetest little whimper. So he does it again before moving across Dean’s chest to give the other nub the same treatment.

“God yes,” Dean wheezes around the sudden bite of pain as Sam sinks his teeth into the flesh just to the left of Dean’s nipple. He tangles both hands in Sam’s hair then and tugs, pulling him up so their lips are brushing together when Dean speaks again. “It’s gonna be even better when you’re fucking me into this mattress. Come on, baby. I need you.”

Dean arches up then, which causes his erection to drag along Sam’s abs, leaving a wet trail in its wake. And Sam’s own cock throbs in sympathy. Yeah. God. He needs Dean too. Needs to be buried as deeply as he can get in Dean’s body.

Sam fumbles around in the sheets until he finds the bottle of lube, but when the lid snicks open, Dean wrestles it out of his hand. He pushes Sam back until he’s on his knees again with Dean’s legs splayed around his waist. And then Dean drizzles some of the viscous liquid over the head of Sam’s dick. When Sam hisses at how cool it is, Dean’s hand follows after it, warming him and spreading the slick all over Sam’s aching cock.

“Shit,” Dean whispers, hand still working up and down, “I think you’ve grown, Sammy.”

Sam doubts that. He doesn’t even really think, given his size everywhere else, he’s that big. But, there’s also the fact that they’re about to attempt to fit his cock in Dean’s ass. So he guesses it would look big to Dean with that taken into consideration. They’ve never even gotten close to doing this before. And Sam’s not sure if Dean’s ever done this at all. But he doesn’t want to know either. He doesn’t want to think about someone else getting to do this before him. But he also doesn’t want to think about being the first because that’s too much responsibility.

So instead of dwelling on it, or even replying to Dean at all, he scoots closer between Dean’s legs and gently swats hands away before hooking one of Dean’s legs over his arm. He presses the tip of his prick against Dean’s wet, warm opening and looks up to catch Dean’s eye.

“Last chance to back out.”

Dean shakes his head. “Do I look like I want to back out? I drove all night and most of the day to get here. I’ve been wearing that plug for hours. I have no intention of backing out.”

“Sure you’re okay with me not wearing a condom?”

“God yes, Sammy. I’m a fully consenting adult, okay? I want this. You want this, right? So can we please just do it already?”

Sam presses in then, catching Dean off guard as he slides into Dean’s wet heat. There’s a sudden give that has them both groaning as the head pops in, and then all resistance disappears and Sam is able to bury himself to the hilt easily.

“Fuck,” Dean grunts, his pelvis twisting as he grinds down on Sam, trying to take him even deeper it seems.

“Be still,” Sam admonishes as his fingers dig into Dean, one hand at this thigh and the other clinging to his sharp hipbone.

“Can’t,” his brother complains, trying to wiggle out of Sam’s hold and set his own pace with what little movement he can manage without being able to dig his feet into the bed for leverage. But his heels bat at Sam’s back, trying to spur him on.

Breathing heavily as he tries to keep himself under control, because goddamn Dean is so fucking tight and slick and hot as hell, Sam pulls out just a bit before rocking back in. And Dean swallows hard, his hands tangling in the sheets as his eyes flutter almost closed. His teeth bite into his bottom lip and he practically vibrates when Sam repeats the motion, pulling out a little farther this time.

“Feels so fucking good,” Dean says around his reddening lip, breath panting out as he squirms a little. “God, Sammy. I didn’t know. Didn’t know it would feel like this. Fuck, baby. Come on. Fuck me harder. I can take it.”

Dean’s ass squeezes him a time or two, tightening down on Sam’s cock like it never wants to let him go, and Sam lets out some sound that’s the bastard child of a groan and a whimper. He can’t hold back anymore. So he pulls out until just the tip is holding Dean open and then, when Dean’s eyes lock on his own, anticipation obvious in the way he quirks an eyebrow in invitation, Sam thrusts forward, hard, just like Dean wants.

The sound Dean makes is pure, unadulterated pleasure in auditory form. And Dean doesn’t let Sam waste any time. No sooner than Sam bottoms out, Dean jerks back, trying to force Sam to set a punishing pace. And Sam doesn’t disappoint him.

For several long minutes, Sam seesaws back and forth, fucking into Dean with abandon and little to no finesse. Just all the pent up need from several years’ worth of wanting and then another few years of having but never having enough. And after all that, the excruciating mixture of pain and love, of desire and heartbreak, Dean is here now, giving himself over with no reservations. Holding nothing back. And, at first, all Sam can do is take. 

But then Dean’s leg slips on the sweat now pouring out of both of them and Sam falls forward just a bit, changing the angle. _Prostate_ , Sam’s mind supplies when Dean cries out, loud and unabashed, openly begging for, “More, Sammy. Just like that, baby. Right there. So good, so good, so good.”

Sam indulges Dean with several more long strokes, brushing right over his sweet spot every time, before he sits up. When Dean chokes on a whine, reaching out for Sam with grabby hands that would be cute in another other situation but just now it’s hot as fuck, Sam grabs him and pulls him up. He helps situate Dean on his lap, arms wound around Sam’s neck and open mouth dragging along Sam’s jaw.

And then, “Come on, Dean. Ride me.”

Dean shudders once and then Sam feels those thick, powerful thighs flex just a second before Dean lifts and drops on his lap for the first time. After that Sam isn’t even sure which one of them is wailing and sobbing. Maybe both of them. Dean’s hands scrape along Sam’s shoulders and tug at his hair intermittently. And Sam can’t keep his own still, aching to touch every overheated inch of his brother he can reach.

They move together, Sam burying himself as deeply as he can whenever Dean drops on him, and Dean rocking up and down in jerky movements as his dick rubs up into Sam’s stomach on every up stroke. Dean’s mouth is breathing hot and humid air all over Sam’s neck and his tongue darts out to lap at the sweaty skin through groans and whines.

And when Sam starts to feel that warmth settle low in his gut, spreading down and causing his balls to tighten and lift, he works a hand between them to wrap around Dean’s throbbing, leaking cock. It’s a little too late though, because Sam comes just a second later, shoving up and pulling Dean down as he spurts long and hard, as deep in Dean’s body as he can. The first to ever mark Dean up like this. And that thought has him biting down on Dean’s shoulder to keep from shouting as his dick gives one more valiant twitch.

He gets no time to recover, because, still seated tightly on Sam’s dick, Dean leans back enough to wrap his hand over Sam’s on his dick. Dean uses Sam’s hand to jerk himself hard and fast, aiming at Sam’s stomach when the first string of come erupts from the almost purpled tip. He splatters Sam’s abs and even his chest, with rope after rope of pearly white liquid. And when he’s finally spent, he falls back to the bed, grunting when the movement causes Sam to slip free.

Clean up is a bitch because Sam refuses to sneak across the hall to wet a wash cloth in the shared bathroom. So he pulls out a couple dry cloths and wipes them down. But when he climbs into bed, slotting himself not exactly comfortably between Dean and the cold wall, they both still reek of sex. Sam kind of likes the smell though. He probably won’t in the morning, however, when it’s staled and Dean is… well… gone most likely. Honestly, given what they just did, he can’t believe Dean is even still here. And the fact that he’s letting Sam practically spoon him – even if the size of the bed pretty much demands it – is astonishing. Dean doesn’t do touchy feely crap. And he never sticks around after they’ve gotten off. The shame and guilt drowns him in ways it’s never even registered with Sam. 

“Are you… uh,” Sam starts, not even sure what he wants to ask. He hates to disrupt the moment, but to say he’s confused would be an understatement. “… leaving?”

“Want me to?” Dean asks, calm and soft, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s just one wrong move from running, that does nothing to ease Sam’s anxiety.

“No,” Sam says quickly, “God no.” His arms grasp Dean more firmly, wrapping in an almost bruising grip around Dean’s waist and chest, pulling him flush against Sam’s broader frame. He doesn’t add that he’s never wanted Dean to leave after out of fear it’ll spark up the argument they had just before Sam came here. The one that sealed both their fates, at least for the next few years.

“Good. Because tomorrow’s Christmas Eve and I thought we could spend the day together before I have to head out tomorrow night.”

Sam knew it. He knew the second he laid eyes on Dean at the bar that this would be temporary. That whatever brought Dean here it didn’t bring him for good. But his heart still sinks and he presses his face into the top of Dean’s head, planting a couple lingering kisses there before he clears his throat and says, “Yeah. That’s great.”

Dean must sense Sam’s sadness. He hears it in Sam’s voice or he feels it in the tension in Sam’s body. Or, hell, maybe they really are as utterly connected as Sam used to imagine when he was a kid and he didn’t know it was wrong to want to marry your big brother. Maybe there really is an invisible string binding their hearts irrevocably together. However he does it, Dean just _knows_ exactly what is tugging at Sam’s emotions and his fingers dig into Sam’s wrists, holding him in place as if Sam would ever let him go. Not in any permanent way, anyway.

“Not forever, Sammy. Okay? Just… we’re um… doing different things right now, right? You’re here and you belong here. At least for now. And this is great, Sammy, really. I know I was a dick before, when you left, but I’m so goddamn proud of you,” Dean stops there as his voice cracks and Sam nuzzles closer, dipping down to nip softly at Dean’s ear. It’s a bit of reassurance, something for Dean to focus on because he never does well with these heart to hearts. Which is odd, because as much shit as he gives Sam for being so emotional, it’s usually Dean who ends up prompting these tear-jerking conversations. He’s a sap even if he won’t admit it.

“But I _like_ the hunting life, Sam. I can’t give that up to move here and play boyfriend or whatever. But maybe I can swing by sometimes? I can’t be your long distance, um, lover or something,” Sam grins because without even seeing Dean’s face he knows just how it twists around that word, “Or just a friend with benefits. Something. Okay?”

This is a turning point, Sam knows. Before they drew lines in the sand and they refused to budge even an inch. Dean yelled hateful things at Sam that Sam will likely never forget, but Sam gave as good as he got. They shredded each other in ways that only people who truly love each other can. But Dean’s here now. And he’s truly contrite. And Sam is too.

And god but he’s _still here_ even with the endorphins wearing off and the sweat cooling on their skin. He’s here. And that’s more important than anything.

Sam could pout and beg Dean to stay. To give up everything he loves and just be Sam’s for a while. Or even forever. And he would. Likewise, Dean could demand Sam come back with him and Sam would. But that’s not what needs to happen. If they are ever going to be good for each other, if this thing between them is going to work, they have to compromise. Neither can take more than is offered, even if it’s theirs for the taking.

“Okay. And when you’re here, there’s no hiding, right? You’re just… my boyfriend. And I can kiss you walking down the street and hold your hand?”

Dean’s chest heaves with a silent laugh and Sam _feels_ the epic eye roll even though he shouldn’t be able to do so. “You’re such a fucking girl, Sammy.”

“Yes or no?” Sam prods, despite knowing what Dean will say, he needs an answer.

“Yes, you walking, talking chick flick. Yes, okay? Whatever you want when I’m here. Should I bring you flowers and chocolates when I roll into town?”

He’s only half joking and Sam knows it. But Sam likes chocolate, even if he doesn’t let himself have it as often as he’d like. And he’s always been a sucker for roses.

“Yes.”

And when Dean says, “Alright,” he’s dead serious and Sam smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Customary tumblr plug: Hey, if you wanna follow me on [tumblr](http://sincestiel.tumblr.com/) that would be alright. Shoot me an [ask](http://sincestiel.tumblr.com/ask) if you have a prompt (Destiel, Wincestiel, Wincest, Cockles, J2) and we'll see what happens. :)


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